After a long time, Fan Xian finally calmed down. His clothes were stuck to his body in a cold sweat.
He retrieved the slender dagger from the assassin's shoulder. The sound of the blade cutting through flesh and bone was very terrifying. He couldn't help but be stunned. He then removed the small and sinister hidden crossbow from the dead assassin's sleeve.
The dagger was painted black to prevent it from reflecting light. But Fan Xian knew that the black paint, which Fei Jie had personally made, was not only poisonous, but also a drug that could amplify the pain of an injured person. He carefully sheathed the dagger in a sheath made of hard camel skin. He looked at the assassin's corpse on the bed and the feet of Old Ha, who was delivering vegetables. Then he turned and left.
He pushed open the door. The blind Wu Zhu was standing quietly at the corner of the stairs. His voice came to him. "What if no carriage comes?"
Fan Xian lowered his head and was silent for a long time. He had finally overcome the terrible feeling of killing someone for the first time. He raised his head and smiled. "I will wait for you to come."
He still climbed down the back wall. The training he had put into climbing the cliff outside Danzhou Harbor had finally paid off today. Fan Xian's feet touched the ground and he walked forward. He knew that Wu Zhu would definitely leave him, and if he was in danger again, Wu Zhu would appear again.
Walking in the market, he was still silent. His right hand, which hung by his thigh, trembled slightly.
He dragged his heavy footsteps to one end of the market and stopped in front of a stall. It was a tofu stall. The stall owner was a woman in her twenties. She had a gentle face and wore an apron. Her hands were white and tender.
"Sister Dong'er." Fan Xian greeted her with a smile. This was Dong 'er, the maid he had chased out of the Count's manor. When he was very young, Fan Xian would often lie in her arms and sleep, and their relationship had always been very good. After Dong' er left the manor, she set up a tofu stall in the market, so Fan Xian would often come here to buy tofu.
When Dong'er saw him, a gentle smile appeared on her face. She led him in. "Young master, why are you here?"
As he sat on a small stool, another resident came to buy tofu. Dong 'er looked at him with some difficulty.
Fan Xian nodded and told her to look after her business. Turning around, he found a crib behind the stall. On the crib sat a little girl about two or three years old. Her cheeks were rosy, and she was stretching out her clumsy hands to play with the little bell tied to the crib.
Fan Xian reached out and picked up the little girl, playing with her. Dong 'er turned around and saw it. She hurriedly came forward and took it into her arms. She complained, "Don't dirty your clothes. When we get back, you'll have to let those maids wash them again."
Fan Xian chuckled and said, "Sister Dong 'er, when I was your daughter's age, didn't you hug me every day?"
Dong 'er smiled and said, "My young master, how can you compare with us servants?" It was a little strange. Dong'er had been chased out of the Count's manor by Fan Xian because she had tried the salty and bland food before Fan Xian. But from her tone, it seemed that she did not hold a grudge against the little boy.
Fan Xian scratched his head, not knowing what to say. Dong 'er seemed to see that he was in a bad mood, so she teased her daughter and called out, "Call me young master, young … young … master …"
"Call me uncle," Fan Xian insisted.
…
…
He sat in the tofu stall for a long time, watching Dong 'er cut the tofu, weigh it, wrap it in paper, and teasing the little girl next to her to call him uncle. After a long time, Fan Xian finally got rid of the chill in his heart. He stood up and said goodbye to Dong' er.
Dong 'er was a little embarrassed and said, "Since you've come, I don't have anything good to eat."
Fan Xian laughed and said, "Sister Dong 'er, do you think I'm lacking food?"
"That's true." Dong 'er covered her mouth and laughed, revealing all the shyness of a young married woman. She suddenly said, "Thank you, young master, for buying these things for me."
Fan Xian smiled and shook his head. "As long as you don't blame me for kicking you out of the Count's manor."
Dong 'er smiled and didn't say anything. She trusted the young boy in front of her. Although she didn't understand why he was angry that day at dinner, she knew that he didn't do it on purpose. Furthermore, after she left the mansion, the young master would often secretly send her some money. After she married, the family of three lived a comfortable life. The reason she came out to open a tofu stall was mainly because she knew that it would be more convenient for the young master to visit her.
Fan Xian waved goodbye to Tofu Dong 'er. After he walked out of the market, he turned his head and saw the gentle and beautiful woman carrying the little girl in the water cutting tofu. Her slightly leaning body was still slender and plump. No signs of age could be seen. It was just like how she looked when she held him 10 years ago.
Fan Xian found an excuse to kick Dong 'er out of the manor because she was his personal maid. If anything happened to him, she would not be safe either.
In Fan Xian's "childhood," he had liked this personal maid the most. He liked to lean on her, and often fantasized about what he could do when he grew up — but he had forgotten a very important point. As he slowly grew up, so did Dong 'er. This year, he was twelve, and Dong' er was already in her twenties.
It seemed that the story of Bao Yu and Qingwen had to be abandoned halfway.
"When you were born, I was not born. When I was born, you were already old. You hated that I was born late. I hated that you were born early. When you were born, I was not born. When I was born, you were already old. I hated that we were not born at the same time. I was with you every day. "
As he fantasized about how much Dong 'er loved him, he hummed a tune as he returned to the Count's manor, trying to make himself believe that he had already forgotten the two pairs of dead fish eyes staring at him from the assassin and Old Ha.
— — —
Because he had eaten "Maokouzi" poison mixed with bamboo wormwood in the afternoon, and had broken a man's neck in the afternoon, Fan Xian's appetite was extremely poor. He only ate a little for dinner, then left the bowl and returned to his bedroom.
When night fell, he was a little hungry. Alone, he carried an oil lamp to the kitchen. He walked silently, not disturbing any of the servants.
Entering the kitchen, he cleanly washed a fish. The kitchen knife danced in his hand like a bird, and in a moment, he had removed the scales and guts. Then, using the skill that Wu Zhu had forced him to use to cut up some shredded ginger, the knife landing on the chopping board without making a sound. Then, he added some vinegar to the small dish that held the shredded ginger.
Starting a fire, he boiled water and steamed the fish.
Squatting on the floor, he looked at the stove beside him, watching the slowly rising steam. Suddenly, Fan Xian thought of something funny: because of his mother, Teacher Fei Jie and Uncle Wu Zhu were both teaching him how to kill and how to avoid being killed. But objectively speaking, they were also teaching him how to be a good doctor and a successful cook.
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